Ugly Sweaters
by Gabby D
Summary: They weren't even looking for the damn things when they found them. [Desus Holiday Bingo - 'Ugly Sweater'] Pre-Relationship


They weren't even looking for the damn things when they found them.

It was supposed to be a normal run for baby supplies and clothes, just a couple of hours away from Hilltop, so here they are in a random mall looking for whatever may be useful; Daryl had been in the middle of ignoring Jesus' inane chatter when the other gasped loudly and bursted out laughing leaving the hunter confused. That is, until he sees it.

' _It'_ is a big display of ugly, itchy-looking atrocities trying to pass for Christmas sweaters, each a bigger eyesore than the other. They went from joke catchphrases to hideous color patterns, and Daryl could swear one of them had two reindeers fucking in front of it.

Who would even _buy_ one of those things, least of all wear it?

"Jesus fuckin' Christ."

"That's me," Jesus jokes half-heartedly, most of his focus being on the monstrosities displayed in front of them. "Oh god, they even have _matching ones._ This is amazing, this— this is an actual Christmas miracle. I can't believe this. Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

Daryl moves one of the sweaters with the front of his crossbow to get a better look, making a face of distaste. "I wish I wasn't."

"Don't be like that," he's dismissed quickly enough, and he turns around to see Jesus actually putting one in front of his chest to see if it fits _what the fuck_ — "These were the best part of Christmas, I swear."

"Fuckugly sweaters? That was the best part of Christmas for you?" Daryl doesn't even try to hide the judgement from his voice, but damn, they were _ugly_. "Really?"

Jesus doesn't seem to mind anyway as he just nods excited. "Yes! You could never guess who'd wear the worse sweater at parties, and it was just so much fun to see what everyone came up with. They were so itchy, too, it was awful. I loved every second of it," the scout tells him happily, a hint of nostalgia in his tone. "Why, what was the best part for you?"

He doesn't need to think twice before answering: "The booze."

Which isn't a lie, per se.

The best part of Christmas for Daryl was always Merle, his piece of shit brother who always managed take him out of the holiday blues. Well, whenever the other was there for it, anyway. Either way it'd end the same way: with a lot of booze and Daryl passed out on the couch, but Merle always made it feel less depressing.

But Jesus doesn't need to know that.

"Somehow I should've guessed that," Jesus says easy enough, but when he looks down at the sweaters he seems lost in thoughts for a second, before speaking up again. "Does it ever get to you, sometimes? That Judith and Grace and none of the babies born into this world will ever have a Christmas like Before?"

"Nah," Daryl says quickly— a bit too quickly, because _it does,_ but he just avoids thinking about it. "I never had any of that shit and grew up fine. They got us, it's enough. More than some had."

Jesus stares at him for a second, then smiles. "You're right, they don't need anything else."

There's a minute of silence as Jesus looks around, taking some of the sweaters off the racks and making a production out of showing Daryl some of the ugliest, not caring when the hunter only shakes his head or snorts dismissive. It goes on like that until Jesus decides to speak again.

"You know, we should take some of those back with us. Maybe make our own Christmas. At the very least it'll get some laughters, and warm us when the winter comes."

Daryl's first instinct is to shoot the idea down, say it's not worth it, but he pauses and thinks about it. It's the thought of Rick wearing one of the dumb-ass ridiculous sweaters that makes him snort and shrug.

"Sure, whatever."

"I think Maggie will like the Jingle Belly one," Jesus comments amused, already opening his backpack to place it inside. "Here, help me pack some of those - doesn't matter which, but maybe grab the funniest or ugliest-looking. If the others like it we can come back another day for more."

"They're all awful," he says, but does as asked anyway. Daryl didn't mean to, but he ends up unconsciously picking out sweaters for each member of his family, assigning each person their own eyesore.

He thinks Jesus is doing the same, if the way he stops before grabbing each one says anything.

"Ooh, I think I can find the perfect one for you, just give me a second," Jesus says as he goes deeper into the rack, not a hint of irony in his voice, and that makes Daryl stop. "What kind would you prefer?"

As if he'd ever go anywhere near those things.

Daryl huffs, almost offended at the idea. "I ain't wearing no itchy sweater."

"What, why not? Who are you, the Grinch?" Daryl flips him off. "Come on, you have to! It'll be amazing."

"Nah."

"You'll be the odd man out," Jesus argues.

"Don't care. 'Sides, I doubt you'll manage to get everyone."

"Mhm, we'll see about that."

It's a challenge, but Daryl leaves it at that. He won't wear one of those things, no, he agreed because he wants to see his family wear it and make fun of them. Because it's a family thing and he never had it which makes him feel… _something_ , at the idea. Longing, maybe. But that doesn't mean he needs to participate. So they pack some of the sweaters in silence, Daryl trying his best to ignore Jesus sighing at him until he simply can't anymore.

" _What?"_

"You could wear your vest over it, now that you got it back," he negotiates, as if that's something he could ever convince Daryl to do. What the fuck. "Would you wear it then?"

"Fuck off."

Jesus nods seriously and considers it, as if they were having an actual conversation about it. "But what if you cut the sleeves off? Come on, there must be something to make you agree to it."

"Why are you so hung up on this? It's just one person not wearing the damn things, doubt anyone will care."

"But I do! Maybe I can rope Rick into convincing you, or Carol." Jesus ponders for a second. "Or little Judith! Come on, Daryl, won't you do it for her? She's the whole reason why we're taking them with us in the first place. I bet it'll make her smile."

He's got Daryl.

And by the shit-eating grin on his face, he knows it.

"Christ, _fine_ , whatever." Daryl shoves more sweaters inside the bag, accepting his defeat but not wanting to let the other feel like he won. Even though he did. "I'll wear the damn thing if it means you'll stop talking."

"Great! You'll see, it'll be perfect. I'll go find us a matching pair."

"Wait, wha'? I didn't sign up for that."

Jesus runs to the targeted display, laughing brightly as Daryl runs after him. "Too late!"

"Goddammit."


End file.
